#They tasted fine. The exact same as they normally do

[pastelaspirations]

Today, something really freaking weird happened that may never happen to me ever again. Okay, so do you know SpaghettiOs-

If ya don't know, they are like. This canned food with these little circular noodles and meatballs. That's it. Well, just a few minutes ago, I was hungry so I decided to make me some.

But, as I was scooping them out, I noticed that they seemed... strange. Off. Usually, the meatballs are stacked on top, so I didn't notice anything was off until I had already scooped out some. Anyway, the noodles seemed way smaller than I remembered them being. Like, the little circles were w a y smaller, teeny tiny little things.

I was starting to get really weirded out and sort of upset. I mean, here I was hungry, and I was getting freaking scammed out of my big noodles 'cus they made the noodles teeny tiny this time for some reason. But then, I saw.

A "K."

The more I looked, the more I realized.

My SpaghettiO's came with alphabet soup.

I dug around some more, and sure enough. My SpaghettiO's had alphabet soup noodles. How??? I don't know and I never will. I am just sure I will never have this happen to me ever again.

The moral of the story. I didn't have SpaghettiO's for dinner, man. I had the entire Spaghetti Alphabet.

So. That's my Tuesday night, how has yours been-

[jo-speaks]

taste ft. luke hughes

in which...

you know you'll always be present in luke hughes' life, even if you aren't together.

warnings: MDNI!! brief smut, oral sex (f! receiving), alcohol consumption, cheating (? kinda but not really), i think that's it

track one in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series !

quick note: bit earlier than expected, but i can’t let you guys know my next move

Oh, I leave quite an impression

Five feet to be exact

“Damn, Lukey. You walked past her and she looked tiny as hell.” Jack teased his younger brother. 

Luke hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you. You were currently in an intense game of beer pong against his older brother and a guest whom he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of, your short, tight dress leaving the youngest Hughes starstruck. He watched as you threw the small ping pong ball across the table, yet again with the accuracy to have his eldest brother chugging from a red Solo cup for the eighth time that night.

“She’s not that short. I’m just really tall, I guess.” Luke yelled in response, the loud music filling the space making it impossible for him to be heard at a normal level.

Jack rolled his eyes, siping whatever mixed concoction he had made in his not-so-sober state. “Uh-huh. At least you aren’t worrying about Natalie anymore.”

Quinn groaned as he missed the cup across from him, “Alright, next round I want Y/N on my team!”

You laughed loudly, leaving Luke even more mesmerized. “Q, the drunker you get the less losing hurts.”

Once again, it was your turn to throw the ball. You stuck your tongue slightly past your lips in concentration as you tried your best to aim towards the red plastic.

“Hang on, hang on.” Quinn stalled, causing you to groan dramatically. “You’re scary good at this. So, you can’t look at the cups. Take a blind shot.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “What? How is that fair?” “It’s not, but neither is how good you are.” 

“Whatever.” You agreed, turning your head to look at anything else. Before the ball could escape the grasp of your fingertips, your eyes wandered a little too much, making eye contact with Luke. He was already staring at you, so he didn’t bother to look away when you met his gaze. 

The way he was leaning against the counter, legs spread and his tight jeans doing nothing to hide the prominent print of his cock peeking through. 

In your awe, you dropped the round piece of plastic, letting it fall into the cup of beer below it. 

“Does that mean you drink?” Quinn asked.

You're wondering why half his clothes went missing

My body's where they're at

The bright sunlight woke you up. You groaned as you blinked your eyes open, taking in the moment. Well, until it was interrupted. 

Luke threw his arm around you, your body covered in a large piece of fabric. “My hoodie looks nice on you.” 

You laughed softly, “You should let me keep it then.” 

“I didn’t plan on ever taking it back.” He answered, peppering soft kisses on your face, quickly finding your lips. The more your senses started to come back, the more intimate the moment felt. 

You soaked in the sunlight together, not wanting the moment to come to an end. But unfortunately, you had a cat back at your apartment who was probably meowing for food by now. 

“Gotta go, Luke.” You mumbled against his lips, doing nothing to stop his wandering hand from finding its way in between your legs. 

His lips trailed from your lips to your neck, finding that sweet spot that made you cry out softly. “You could also stay, let me take care of you.”

Now I'm gone, but you're still layin'

Next to me, one degree of separation

“What an asshole. He purposely put that on his private story so he could make sure you’d see it.” Your best friend, Ivy commented, taking your phone out of your hand and shutting it off. 

You laughed, “It’s fine, Ivy. I laid in that bed in that same spot a million times. It sure as hell will take more than one girl to get the smell of me out of it.”

The girl squinted her eyes before coming to a realization, “You washed his sheets with your detergent, didn’t you?”

“You bet his sorry ass I did.” You smirked.

Ivy burst out in laughter, her hands grabbing your forearms as you started to laugh along with her, “You petty bitch.”

I heard you're back together and if that's true

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you

If you want forever, I bet you do

Just know you'll taste me too

“So yeah, he got back with Natalie. That’s who that girl on his story was.” Quinn commented, taking a sip of his coffee. 

The two of you had started going out more often after you and Luke broke up. Well, when Luke broke up with you. He had claimed he just didn’t love you anymore, but after spending a little less than six months with him, you knew it was bullshit. So, as any sane person does, you called up his older brother and asked him to give you the real explanation. Since then, it had basically become routine for the two of you to catch up whenever he was back in Vancouver.

You nodded, “I figured, but thanks for letting me know.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. We told him to wait before jumping into anything, especially since he was still texting her the whole time you guys were together.” “So that ‘N’ in his phone wasn’t actually Nico? No way!” You joked, knowing that the single-letter contact couldn’t have possibly been his team’s captain. 

Uh-huh

He pins you down on the carpet

Makes paintings with his tongue (La-la-la-la-la-la-la)

His hands pinned your hips down against the living room carpet, his need to eat you out far too great to even make it to the bedroom.

“Fuck, Luke.” You moaned, gripping his damp curls. 

He kept licking at your clit, doing what felt like absolute magic against your core. “You taste so good, baby. Doing so good f’me.” He mumbled against you, the vibrations of his voice only adding to the pleasure. 

You felt yourself getting closer to your peak, the room around you slowly disappearing as you fell into a blissful state, the only thing you were focused on was how good Luke was making you feel. 

However, a consistent buzz from next to your spread legs caught your attention. Even through blurry eyes, you could see a capital ‘N’ displayed on his phone screen, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. 

Before you could say anything about it, Luke took your swollen bud into his mouth, suckling harshly, distracting you completely from saying anything.

He's funny now, all his jokes hit different

Guess who he learned that from?

Jack and Quinn had become irritated at their brother and his girlfriend’s laughter coming from the pool room. 

“I might just be bitter, but her laugh is stupidly annoying. I like Y/N’s. Hers sounds less annoying.” Jack said to Quinn, staring from the porch into the room. 

“Luke’s not even that fucking funny. All the jokes he’s telling her are jokes Y/N said to him. He could at least try to be original.” Quinn agreed.

Now I'm gone, but you're still layin'

Next to me, one degree of separation

Luke laid in his bed, waiting for Natalie to finish taking off her makeup at the desk across from him. He rolled over into the space where she now had claimed, his nostrils taking in a familiar vanilla scent.

“Nat? Did you use a new hair product or something?” He questioned, sniffing the sheets more aggressively.

Natalie made a face, “What? No, I haven’t.” 

I heard you're back together and if that's true

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you

If you want forever, and I bet you do (I bet you do)

Just know you'll taste me too

“Stop doing that.” Luke whispered against her lips. 

Natalie groaned, “Doing what?”

He pulled away, wanting to get a better look at her face, “Tugging on my hair. I don’t like it.” “She did it all the time, Lu. I saw it.”

Luke knew exactly what she was talking about. The only person he had let tug on his hair during a make-out or during sex was you. It didn’t feel good when anyone else did it, not even his girlfriend.

“Whatever. Just don’t do it.”

La-la-la-la-la-la-la

“Maybe we need to cut you off.” Ivy said, pulling the shot of vodka from your hand before you could take it. 

You snorted, “Nah, I’m fine.”

To everyone, it was obvious you were not fine. Emotionally, sure. But sobriety-wise? Not at all.

Ivy gave you a look of concern, “So this drinking spree you’ve been on tonight doesn’t have anything to do with Luke?”

“Nope.”

Every time you close your eyes and feel his lips, you're feelin' mine

And every time you breathe his air, just know I was already there

Luke peered up at you as you pulled your hair back, “Already? Thought you’d want to kiss a little first.”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up. I just don’t want my hair to keep getting stuck on my lip gloss. It’s getting annoying.” He simply laughed and pulled you back in, pressing his lips to yours yet again, savouring the taste of your cherry lip gloss as he took your bottom lip into his mouth. He felt as if he didn’t even need oxygen anymore, only you, on his lap, your lips against his. 

After a few more kisses, you pulled away to catch your breath, Luke’s hand on the back of your head keeping you close to the point where you were practically breathing against his mouth. 

You can have him if you like, I've been there, done that once or twice

And singin' 'bout it don't mean I care, yeah, I know I've been known to share

Well, I heard you're back together and if that's true

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you

“Oh please! It’s clear that you’re still into him, you crazy bitch!” Natalie yelled, getting the attention of a few people in the arena parking lot. 

You scoffed, “I’m not. The only reason I’m here is because of Jack, not Luke.”

“Yeah, right. You know you can say you don’t want him anymore, but it was clear at that karaoke bar that you’re still hung up on him!”

“Holy shit, how many times do I have to say it? The only reason I sang that song was because it’s a good fucking song! If I wanted him back, I could get him back.”

Natalie wasn’t even able to get a word out before you continued speaking. 

“Who do you think taught him those jokes you laugh at? Who do you think taught him how to eat pussy like a real man instead of a little bitch?” 

She listened closely to your words. Now it made sense to her why he had gotten better at eating her out after he was with you. You noticed the realization on her face and you felt a slight twinge of guilt in your stomach for exposing Luke like that, especially in a public setting. Unfortunately for him, your patience had already run thin, so you couldn’t stop yourself there. 

“I don’t care how many times you kiss him. Or how many times you fuck him. The only reason he knows what to do is because of me. And no matter how hard you try to make him forget, he won’t.” You snapped, turning on your heels before she could even inhale.

If you want forever, and I bet you do (I bet you do)

Just know you'll taste me too (Taste me too)

For the next few weeks, your words lingered in Natalie’s mind. You were right, and she knew it. The way he gripped the sheets a little tighter before she laid down, the way he all of a sudden didn’t like his hair pulled. 

She thought she wanted to marry this man, to have a family with him. But she knew you were right, Luke would never be the same after you. 

And Luke knew that too.

La-la-la-la-la-la-la

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you, no

(La-la-la-la-la-la-la) Yeah, ah-ah

You'll just have to taste me when he's kissing you

“All I heard was her telling him to get over you before she stormed out the house.” Jack explained, hopping into the passenger seat of your car. You were driving him to the airport since he was heading to Chicago for his surgery. 

You hummed, “I didn’t mean to make her feel bad, but she called me a crazy bitch. Like it’s my fault he hasn’t moved on.” 

Jack laughed at your words, “That’s true. I don’t get it though, he broke up with you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. I don’t know, I guess I’m just that amazing that I linger wherever I’ve been.” You joked.

“Like a taste in his mouth, he can’t get rid of?” 

Your eyes widened slightly at Jack’s shockingly accurate analogy, “Exactly.” 

[yuvany]

#BAKING WITH ENHYPEN

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 x female reader ⎯ CONTENT / WARNING(S) :: fluff + est relationship + kisses + not proofread. . . WORD COUNT : 825 . . CHECK BOX .ᐟ

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

You invited him over after seeing a video of a couple bake, and I mean, Heeseung ran over to you as quick as he saw your message. He enters your kitchen, where you had partially laid out all the equiptment and ingredients while he made his way over. He is about to start baking immedietly, but you stop him and tell him that he needs to wash his dirty hands first. "But my love, these hands hold the love I have for you." He pleads, holding his hands out dramatically. "Hee, that's disgusting. Wash your hands." You say, pulling him over to the sink.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Jay suddenly had an innovative idea of a new pastery and urged you to come over and help him, by that he means observe. "babe, what was your idea?" you asked, seeing him rush into the kitchen and prep it while you slowly follow behind him. "I wanted to make a heart shaped version of your favourite." You chuckle, and begin washing your hands and putting on an apron since you know how he is with hygiene. Turns out it wasn't necessary because you became a kitchen princess. Jay did all the baking unless you asked to help, and let you lick all the utensils with dough and batter while you both washed the dishes together.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

"Jake, are you sure you have sugar?" you ask, and he nods. "Of course I do, even if I didn't, you'd suffice!" He winks, but you shrug it off with a chuckle. The first half of the recipe goes well becuase Jake did in fact have sugar in his pantry. Then you see Layla walk into the kitchen and you figure that you could leave him alone for just a moment, but turn out you were proven incorrect. Jake makes a discovery that he doesn't own a scale, and stop baking for a moment before he gives up on the recipe and free-styles. You return and sees that the batter is all clumpy and discoloured. "What did you do, babe." You ask, and see him smiling tensly.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

Is very excited becuase he gets to experience what a normal teenage experperience would be like even though he's an adult. Sunghoon looks up many recipes before showing you the one he finds is the more fitting and looks the best, becuase he wants whatever he does to be the best. You nod and give him a kiss on the cheek before handing him an apron. You two stick together and switch roles every time, and while it's your turn to measure the ignredients, you aren't as creful and exact as him. "You need to fill it a bit more." He says, and you say, "It'll be fine, Hoon."

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Is sneaky and adds extra of whatever he likes into the bowl whenever you aren't looking. You turned around to look at the recipe on your tablet after already adding the sugar, but Sunoo is fast and adds more to it, his reflexses are quick, and when you turn around, you see him standing there innocently with a smile on his face. You don't realise this until after the batter out of the oven, becuase when you take a bite of it, you can't help but feel like something is off even though you can't put your finger on it. "Is it supposed to taste like this?" You question. " I think it tastes perfect!"

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

At the start, everything was cute and organised, but when Jungwon placed the batter into the oven, he started to get impatient while waiting and got an idea when he looked at his palms that were still covered in flour. A smirk spread across his face and you were unaware of what was going to happen since you were focused on your phone. You feel a tap on your shoulder, and when you turn around, you are met with a handful of flour hitting your face. You wipe it away, and quickly scanned the situation, doing the same as him, turning this into a flour battle. "Come back here!" You called out to Jungwon who was running away.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

Tells you to sit back and watch him be 'Gordon Ramsay' even though you were the one who told him you wanted to bake for him. Every time you attempt to sneak into the kitchen to do something, he nudges you back out and tells you, "I'm a master, trust and you'll taste my amazing choco cake." Riki looks proud as he puffs out his chest with a smile. "If you say so." You shrug, and let him do what he wants. "y/n, do you know where the flour is?" He asks, and you walk over to a cabinet show him the bucket with flour. "So, am I qualified to be your assistant now?" you tease. "Sure, but I'll still be the one to bake for you." Riki says, kissing your hair.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa

[jamil-s-wifey]

Headcanon request of how the dorm leaders (with kalim replaced w/ jamil if possible) would react to their crush accidentally taking a love potion and acting extra affectionate to them?

Oh I love this so much! There are a few hcs out there about similar situations and they're ALWAYS my favourite to read! I'm so glad I finally got to write some on my own! I hope you enjoy!!!

Warning: slightly suggestive at times.

P.s. the love potion doubles as a truth potion. You'll see what I mean! I've left off on a somewhat open ending, so do tell if you'd like a p2!

Of course you were going to be partners with Ace of all people in Potions. The almost apologetic look, which professor Crewel sent you wasn't really helping you feel any less like a martyr. Any less... patronised. But what were you to do, rather than accept your fate gracefully and see where that takes you.

The potion, which was to be made was a truth potion. It was simple, really. Few ingredients, fewer steps. And it looked exactly like in the picture, only a little less orange and a little more pink. But that was normal, right?

Only it wasn't a truth potion. And Ace decided to put it in a water bottle. The same water bottle as yours. Why? To hide the fact that it was slightly pinker, than orange. Did Crewel buy it? No. But you? You did. One misplaced bottle, an unsuspecting MC and a series of unfortunate events.

When did your juice taste so unbelievably sweet?

"Oh no..."

Riddle was perfectly unsuspecting, going about his day, preparing for an unbirthday party, when he saw Ace practically dragging you to him. The moment you laid eyes on Riddle, a dopey smile appeared on your face.

He is confused ™️. You slipped Ace's grip and threw yourself on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, practically hanging off him. "Riddle, the love of my life, I missed you so much, my heart can't beat when you're not around me."

Riddle's face turned 50 shades of red at that exact moment. He turned to Ace for an explanation, feeling embarrassment stir in his heart. And why did you sound like Rook?!

"LOVE POTION. WILL WEAR OUT, BYE " Aaaaand he was gone. Riddle was about to yell after him, when you grabbed his face, looking deep into his eyes. "Riddle, you're so pretty today."

His heart skipped a beat. In fact, it skipped a few too many beats. "Prefect, please. You're under the influence of a potion." He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself.

"But the potion only shows my true feelings for you! I've always loved you!" You smiled at him, running your fingers through his hair.

"T-then... Let's speak about this after the potion wears off, okay?" He asked, reluctantly patting you on the shoulder. (Smooth. V smooth.) "Fine, but only if you stay with me. I want to spend time with you!"

"I will. Until you recover and then some."

He could hear your footsteps, approaching his napping spot in the botanical gardens, so he already knew you were coming before you called out to him. "Leona!" And there it was, your sing-song voice, much cheerier than usual.

He lazily opened one eye as to acknowledge your existence. He expected you to sit down and tell him of whatever wacky shenanigans you'd got into. What he didn't expect was for you to climb into his lap, smothering him in a hug. Was he flustered? Yes. Was he about to show it? Hell no.

"Damn, what has gotten into you today, herbivore? You're unusually... annoying."

No. No, do not give him the puppy eyes, he can't take it. Oh god. "I just wanted to come see you! Mmm, you smell so good." You whispered, shoving your face into the crook of his neck. The whole position you two were in was quite...the sight. A growl escaped him, before he pushed you back, to look you in the eyes. Were your pupils... Hearts?!

"What the fuck has happened to you? Did you ingest something you shouldn't?" Now that he thought about it, your breath did smell sweeter, no, all of you smelled sweeter. He was perceptive, terrifyingly so. In fact he was pretty sure a love potion was responsible for your actions. You seemed drunk (off of him).

"Fuck, get off, we gotta go to the infirmary, or better yet - to Crewel, to brew an antidote.

"But- maybe I like being like this. At least I'm bold enough to show you how much I love you like this!"

....wait what?

He was about to have a very long chat with you once all of this was resolved.

Azul was finishing up the preparation for a new FRESH BATCH of contracts, when a knock on the door interrupted him. In came Jade, followed by you - a very giddy-looking you.

"My apologies, they insisted they had to see you." With those words, Jade left the vicinity, knowing fully well what was about to go down (because of course the fucker knew you weren't being fully yourself. He was also acutely aware of Azul's growing infatuation with you.)

"Azul, I come with a proposition. Let's form a relationship contract, where we both get all benefits of being a couple!" You moved behind his desk, grabbing his hand. "It's a limited time offer. Sealed with a kiss!"

Azul was: Flustered. Flabbergasted. Bamboozled. Floored. Gone. Out of the stratosphere. He was torn between running away to his octopot and smootly answering by presenting a contract, ready-made for the occasion. (Which he totally had.)

"M-MC. This is rather sudden of you-" he started, fixing his glasses. "I did not expect...such a proposition." Not that he would complain.

You moved closer to him, wrapping your other arm around his neck. "Well, what do you say? Do we have a deal?" Those eyes of yours were piercing through his very heart, unnaturally so... Suspiciously unnaturally.

"MC, if you may, could you perhaps wait until I've... finished writing down the logistics of such a contract?"

Your smile widened and he swore he felt Cupid's arrow pierce through him. "Of course, for you I'd wait a lifetime, my handsome octopus~"

You were never THIS bold with him. He had to investigate further.

Jamil had just finished basketball practice, when he bumped into you. Or more so, you bumped into him. Immediately, you threw your arms around his neck, bringing him down to leave a kiss on his cheek. "Hey, Jamil~ Fancy seeing you here."

What in the Sevens' name-

He felt blood rush to his face at an alarming rate. Looking away, he pushed you back to create some distance between you two. "What has gotten into you?!" He asked, exasperated, still keeping you at arm's length. He was NOT prepared for his crush doing that out of nowhere.

"I'm just greeting you, silly! I passed by the gym, figured I'd say hi~"

"Okay. Hi. What do you want? You can't just...go around doing that." He did not have time to deal with whatever this is, he figured it was most probably a prank of some kind.

"What makes you think I go around kissing people. I only want to kiss you!" You smiled at him so lovingly, he could barely keep his knees from buckling. This was quickly becoming very overwhelming for him.

"Where is...all of this coming from, exactly? Are you fever-striken or something?" He lay a hand on your forehead, y'know, just checking.

"It's not a fever, Jamil. I'm just reaaaaally into you!"

"Stop joking around about this."

"I'm serious!" You grabbed his hand, laying it over your heart. His eyes narrowed. It's not like he didn't believe you, but this was far too sudden and you seemed far too..out of it of sorts. His sixth sense was screaming at him. He considered cornering Ace after taking you home. He already seemed pretty fidgety during practice.

"Okay. Look. Let's talk about this over coffee tomorrow, alright? My treat."

"Oooh, so a date, then?"

"Yes... a date. Now let me walk you back to Ramshackle."

The moment you saw Ace's horrified expression, you knew there was only one person you could turn to - Vil. He could surely help brew an antidote. As fast as possible you made your way to Pomefiore, worried about what the potion might do to you. However, the moment you laid eyes on him, you felt your own emotions overwhelm you.

"Vil!"

He was in the lounge, scolding conversing with Epel. The moment your eyes met, the most lovestruck of smiles crawled on your face. "Ah, I'm so happy to see you. I missed you greatly!" You walked over to him, a slight skip in your step. Vil merely raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing here, potato? Unannounced, and you look like you've run here." He dismissed Epel, mumbling how he'll 'deal with him later', instead turning his attention fully to you.

"I came to ask for help, I accidentally ingested a potion. But now that I'm here-" you moved to link your arm with his. "I could maybe spend some time with you? We haven't seen each other in nearly a week, handsome." You winked at him.

"Potato, as much as I enjoy spending time with you, you can't ju- wait. What potion???" He grabed you by the shoulders. "How did it happen?!"

You smiled at him, reaching out to gently grasp a strand of his hair and twirl it. "It was supposed to be a truth potion, but something went wrong. Ace put it in a water bottle and I drank it. But I feel perfectly fine, especially now that I'm here. Ah, somehow I never get the chance to tell you how much you truly mean to me. And I mean it romantically."

He nearly lost his cool. Hiding his frazzled state behind a dainty cough, clearly fake, not that there was anybody around to call him out, a deep sigh escaped his lips. "You probably added too much chicory root and turned it into a love potion."

You frowned. "But my feelings are very real. I could just never tell you before. Do you.. not return them?"

"Pota- MC, let me brew you an antidote, and then I'll give you my answer, okay?"

You had texted him, saying you urgently needed to go see him. And you even had texted your code word for "fucking emergency, drop what you're doing right now". Yes, the word was "capybara". Much unlike his usual self, he quickly exited the game he was playing, after all - you only used that word once before, and he really didn't want to ponder on THAT time.

Just as he was about to text you back, a hurried knock on his door startled him.

"MC?" He questioned, looking around to make sure his room was at least somewhat decent looking. You'd hung out with him countless times before, but he wanted to double-check anyways.

"Yes! I'm coming in!" And there you stood, worry instantly leaving your features the moment you spotted him. "Ah, Idia. I'm so lucky to have you.~" before he could react, you made a few steps forward and threw yourself on him, hugging him.

Now, Idia has never been one to appreciate any kind of contact, especially physical. But having his crush hug him. Nah. His internal graphics card isn't strong enough to withstand such situations. He felt himself nearly overheat at the feeling of your body against his. The tiniest of yelps escaped him - the clearest of signs that his body was going into overdrive.

"Idia, something really bad happened and I fear it might affect me. I should stay indoors until it wears off, can we just stay here and cuddle?"

CUDDLE?! C U D D L E?! D-DID HE HEAR YOU RIGHT?! His knees buckled and the two of you fell to the floor. "W-wha-" he couldn't even form his sentence. And it became even worse, once you nestled into his arms, making yourself more comfortable. "I've been waiting for a long time to do this~" you murmured, a satisfied smile on your lips.

He gathered all of the strength in his body, mind and soul, to ask you. "W-what bad thing happened?"

"I drank a potion in class. I don't know what will happen to me and when it will wear off." You mumbled, fingers tracing over his chest. "But I feel safe now. So it's okay."

What kind of potion? He focused all of his attention to the information given to him. He had to know, insecurities and anxiety be damned, you used *the code word* after all.

Somehow, he hoped his suspicions were incorrect.

Malleus was walking near Ramshackle, waiting patiently for your arrival, as the two of you'd scheduled an afternoon walk. Naturally, he saw you approach from a mile away, but the worried look on your face, alarmed him . What alarmed him even more was the faint magical residue, emanating off of you. You were supposed to be magicless, right? Did somebody try to attack you?

As you reached him, you immediately buried your face in his chest, hugging him tightly. He returned the hug, gently running his fingers through your hair. You two were already close enough to have some form skinship, but somehow you were never this forward.

"Tsunotarou", you mumbled, looking up at him. "I'm sorry I'm late." "Nonsense, Child of man. I reckon you're just on time. Is this what has you so troubled?"

"Not really, we had an accident in potions class." Before you could further elaborate, you reached out, cupping his cheek. "But it's okay. This is the most free I've ever felt. As if I'm soaring through the sky, and for once I'm not overthinking my every move. And it's all because of you." You stroked his cheek gently. "Have I ever told you how much I like you?"

His eyes grew wide open at the carefree admission. He was one split second decision away from kissing you breathless right then and there, but somehow he knew something was very wrong. "My, how bold of you, my dear." His surprise soon turned to sorrow, as he pieced together the situation. "It appears that accident may have involved a love potion."

"It was supposed to be a truth potion." You corrected with a small giggle.

"Alas, those two are easy to mix. I appreciate the boldness, I truly do, my dear. However, seeing as you're under the influence of such a potion, I cannot respond in any way."

A bitter smile graced his lips as he patted you on the head. "Let us bring you to Professor Crewel, to brew an antidote. In the meantime, you can tell me which insolent soul is responsible for this."

You pouted at him. "Crewel said it will wear off on its own. And once it does, I will come and confess to you again, to show you how real my feelings are."

That made him smile a bit, as his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Some may call it false hope. He calls it dedication.

"Then I shall await that moment most ardently, my dear."

[lurkingteapot]

Every now and then I think about how subtitles (or dubs), and thus translation choices, shape our perception of the media we consume. It's so interesting. I'd wager anyone who speaks two (or more) languages knows the feeling of "yeah, that's what it literally translates to, but that's not what it means" or has answered a question like "how do you say _____ in (language)?" with "you don't, it's just … not a thing, we don't say that."

I've had my fair share of "[SHIP] are [married/soulmates/fated/FANCY TERM], it's text!" "[CHARACTER A] calls [CHARACTER B] [ENDEARMENT/NICKNAME], it's text!" and every time. Every time I'm just like. Do they though. Is it though. And a lot of the time, this means seeking out alternative translations, or translation meta from fluent or native speakers, or sometimes from language learners of the language the piece of media is originally in.

Why does it matter? Maybe it doesn't. To lots of people, it doesn't. People have different interests and priorities in fiction and the way they interact with it. It's great. It matters to me because back in the early 2000s, I had dial-up internet. Video or audio media that wasn't available through my local library very much wasn't available, but fanfiction was. So I started to read English language Gundam Wing fanfic before I ever had a chance to watch the show. When I did get around to watching Gundam Wing, it was the original Japanese dub. Some of the characters were almost unrecognisable to me, and first I doubted my Japanese language ability, then, after checking some bits with friends, I wondered why even my favourite writers, writers I knew to be consistent in other things, had made these characters seem so different … until I had the chance to watch the US-English dub a few years later. Going by that adaptation, the characterisation from all those stories suddenly made a lot more sense. And the thing is, that interpretation is also valid! They just took it a direction that was a larger leap for me to make.

Loose adaptations and very free translations have become less frequent since, or maybe my taste just hasn't led me their way, but the issue at the core is still a thing: Supernatural fandom got different nuances of endings for their show depending on the language they watched it in. CQL and MDZS fandom and the never-ending discussions about 知己 vs soulmate vs Other Options. A subset of VLD fans looking at a specific clip in all the different languages to see what was being said/implied in which dub, and how different translators interpreted the same English original line. The list is pretty much endless.

And that's … idk if it's fine, but it's what happens! A lot of the time, concepts -- expressed in language -- don't translate 1:1. The larger the cultural gap, the larger the gaps between the way concepts are expressed or understood also tend to be. Other times, there is a literal translation that works but isn't very idiomatic because there's a register mismatch or worse. And that's even before cultural assumptions come in. It's normal to have those. It's also important to remember that things like "thanks I hate it" as a sentiment of praise/affection, while the words translate literally quite easily, emphatically isn't easy to translate in the sense anglophone internet users the phrase.

Every translation is, at some level, a transformative work. Sometimes expressions or concepts or even single words simply don't have an exact equivalent in the target language and need to be interpreted at the translator's discretion, especially when going from a high-context/listener-responsible source language to a low-context/speaker-responsible target language (where high-context/listener responsible roughly means a large amount of contextual information can be omitted by the speaker because it's the listener's responsibility to infer it and ask for clarification if needed, and low-context/speaker-responsible roughly means a lot of information needs to be codified in speech, i.e. the speaker is responsible for providing sufficiently explicit context and will be blamed if it's lacking).

Is this a mouse or a rat? Guess based on context clues! High-context languages can and frequently do omit entire parts of speech that lower-context/speaker-responsible languages like English regard as essential, such as the grammatical subject of a sentence: the equivalent of "Go?" - "Go." does largely the same amount of heavy lifting as "is he/she/it/are you/they/we going?" - "yes, I am/he/she/it is/we/you/they are" in several listener-responsible languages, but tends to seem clumsy or incomplete in more speaker-responsible ones. This does NOT mean the listener-responsible language is clumsy. It's arguably more efficient! And reversely, saying "Are you going?" - "I am (going)" might seem unnecessarily convoluted and clumsy in a listener-responsible language. All depending on context.

This gets tricky both when the ambiguity of the missing subject of the sentence is clearly important (is speaker A asking "are you going" or "is she going"? wait until next chapter and find out!) AND when it's important that the translator assign an explicit subject in order for the sentence to make sense in the target language. For our example, depending on context, something like "are we all going?" - "yes" or "they going, too?" might work. Context!

As a consequence of this, sometimes, translation adds things – we gain things in translation, so to speak. Sometimes, it's because the target language needs the extra information (like the subject in the examples above), sometimes it's because the target language actually differentiates between mouse and rat even though the source language doesn't. However, because in most cases translators don't have access to the original authors, or even the original authors' agencies to ask for clarification (and in most cases wouldn't get paid for the time to put in this extra work even if they did), this kind of addition is almost always an interpretation. Sometimes made with a lot of certainty, sometimes it's more of a "fuck it, I've got to put something and hope it doesn't get proven wrong next episode/chapter/ten seasons down" (especially fun when you're working on a series that's in progress).

For the vast majority of cases, several translations are valid. Some may be more far-fetched than others, and there'll always be subjectivity to whether something was translated effectively, what "effectively" even means …

ANYWAY. I think my point is … how interesting, how cool is it that engaging with media in multiple languages will always yield multiple, often equally valid but just sliiiiightly different versions of that piece of media? And that I'd love more conversations about how, the second we (as folks who don't speak the material's original language) start picking the subtitle or dub wording apart for meta, we're basically working from a secondary source, and if we're doing due diligence, to which extent do we need to check there's nothing substantial being (literally) lost -- or added! -- in translation?

[kur-ooz]

The taste of sweetend apple juice invades your tounge before you allow it to slip down your throat.

Another day with restless kids who want to be hero’s, famous colleagues, and stressing over papers to grade.

As much as you like to say you’d hate it, you couldn’t find it in your heart.

You looked at the clock as it continued to tick down time until it was time for you to go back to work.

You were in the break room enjoying a small lunch that you were barely able to pack this morning from how fast you were trying to rush out of the door.

You let out a content sigh, and picked out the bag of chips from your bag, grimacing when you notice what they are. “Ah shit.” You cursed under your breath.

Cheetos, and not the good ones, just the normal plain ones, you hissed angrily at the blatant orange packs with the tiger staring back you, mockingly.

Throwing the fifth back into your lunchbox, suddenly the break room door opened to reveal colleague, and crush.

You suddenly became aware of your posture and appearance, smoothing out your hair before he shut the door with a grunt. He turned to look at you, his bright eyes lighting up. “Hey! I didn’t think anyone was in here! Sorry.” He chuckled nervously.

Acting like you didn’t know he was even there (you did) you smiled, “it’s fine, how’s work going?” You asked before taking another bite of your sandwich.

He sat down, and pulled out his lunch box, you immediately noticed it was all might themed.

Cute

“It’s going fine, the kids are super excited for the hero stuff today.” He responded, while opening his lunchbox, revealing a beautifully prepared bento.

Before you could stop yourself you asked. “Did you make that?” He looked up slightly suprised, the apples of his cheeks glowing. “Uh yeah.”

You began to flush to, you didn’t mean to embarrass him if you did, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to make you feel weird about it.” You quickly apologized.

He looked up once again and then chuckled, “you didn’t, it just uh, kinda embarrassing when your lunch is all might themed.”

“I don’t think it is.” You responded softly, you didn’t think anything he could do would be embarrassing in your eyes, considering your infatuation with him.

His scarred hand stopped midway, “yeah?” He asked for confirmation. “Yeah.” You confirmed.

He smiled and then continued to reach for a small sausage in his lunch box.

Izuku was so interesting to you, he was so open but so shy at the same time, there was so much you wanted to know about him.

You looked back up from your bland sandwich and to him, he was focused on getting another bite of food.

“Izuku.” You called out, he looked back up awaiting for you to speak again.

“Have you ever gotten everything you wanted?” You asked.

It was melancholy, the way his eyes softened, the way his body un-tensed in an almost instant.

“No—but I got really close.”

He responded, you continued to stare at him, his eyes holding some withheld sadness, as if he wouldn’t allow himself to feel it.

You didn’t fully understand, but you weren’t dumb, you’d always noticed it.

There was a time in your career, highschool to be exact, where izuku was everywhere, fighting along side his peers, at some point you began to admire him, because he was always so much stronger than you thought you could ever be.

But you weren’t dumb.

You noticed how he’d look at his friends.

The want, no, the need to be equal again.

Something feral and carnal inside him, even an idiot could notice it, how badly he wanted it.

How sad he looked when he knew he couldn’t.

Honestly you felt like it was torture, sitting him down in the very same classroom that got him to the point he’s at now.

But you knew he didn’t feel that way, everybody knew that.

Because even though he wasn’t equal, and how badly it hurt to have what he wanted most snatched away from him right at the cusp of his life.

Everyone knew he didn’t regret a thing, and that’s why you admired him so much.

Izuku Midoriya.

Bye I was trying not to sob while making this, GIVE HIM BACK HIS QUIRK NEOW! Anyway this was inspired by an edit I saw, it was so good

[norwegiankafka]

Hiii can I request Owen ( windbreaker) childhood friends to lovers fic please??? 🥹

Little Things [Owen Knight, Fluff]

Synopsis: What if he actually fell for the person that has been there, all along?

a/n 𖦹 finally! I never write for the childhood best friend to lovers prompt, but I'm trying my best. I hope you liked it. Not beta-ed (too long lmfao). Hope anon like it! :3

tw & cw ✰ cursing.

It's so Owen, calling late at night. Like he didn't give a fuck whether you are sleeping or not. A habit of his, exists since you and him were a teenager.

"What the fuck do you want in the fucking middle of the night, Mr. Knight?" You snapped right when you hit the accept button.

"Whoa, chill. I just arrived today and the first thing you did is to curse me? Poor me,"

"Ugh, fine. Tell me what happened," You sigh exasperatedly. Just, please.

"Shelly and Jay kissed in front of me. Like- I don't even know what to say. I'm shocked. Did Shelly really love that guy? I don't know what she sees in him, for real."

"And I don't know what's worth in you for Shelly to see. Oi, get over her. Why bother winning her heart back when you already know who has her heart? You just love hurting your own feelings, just say it at this point, you know that?"

"Your words burns like hell. I always tell you I have a promise with Shelly when I was a kid-"

"This promise, that promise," You cut his words. "That thing happened when you were a kid. It's nothing serious. Get over it. I'm tired of you venting about a girl who doesn't even think about you. I had class in 6. You're free to vent after that."

Just like that, you hang up your call.

—

He, started to wait for your reply. Normally, he checks his phone ever so slightly when he's bored or Shelly isn't around to bug. He often forgots where he puts the phone. Without him realizing things, he checks his phone more often. Waits for that messaging app icon to appear on his phone. Waiting for your name to pop up on his screen. He pulls his phone under his desk when he's in class, turned them on to check whether you replied or not. Will 100% turn them off again when there is no reply or chat from you, or will 100% reply at the same second you sent the text. An Exhibit.

A lot of things reminds him of you. In a lot of occasion, but he always tries to brush it off. He saw an ice cream that you said you wanna try, but never had the time. He tried the ice cream, just to taste whether it tastes good or not. So he can tell you later. (Or maybe ask you for an ice cream date, but best friends didn't do that.) Hey. At least if back in England they didn't have this exact flavor so you (and him) can try it out too, he had a reason to text you later. Two exhibits.

A lot of things reminds him of you. When both of you were kids, you eat ice creams a lot. Cold and flu were no stranger to you and Owen. But among all ice creams that you ever tried, Chocomint. It's a weird flavor, however. Tastes cool and minty but also sweet at the same time. He genuinely thought you're weird and your tastebuds is broken. Who the hell thought this was a delicious flavor? An atrocity made of different shit put together. All that thought end once he walked around stores in Seoul.

There's varieties of chocomint flavored food. Hey, it's not gonna hurt to try few, right? (Cue: He tried all of them. He didn't like it. He had the reason to annoy you by saying chocomint tastes like shit.)

He hates reading. It bore him a whole lot when teachers tell students to read. He hates reading in english, so do Korean. (He barely understands everything). One day, he walked past a bookstore, with a book on sale that day. He feels oddly familiar with the cover, even if he hates reading. He remembers that it's the book that you literally worshipped and said that it's so good he should consider read it too. Without any second thoughts, the book is on the counter and ready to be taken home. He finished the book in a week (pretty fast for a person who hates reading, lol), and silently weeping for the main character. He admits, it's a good book. Three exhibits.

He bikes a lot by himself. It's usually in the afternoon, around the time sun is starting to set. He likes that time a lot, the wind is warm but not too hot, and still feels breezy. After going around for an hour, he sat by the nearest river. Doing nothing, just watching until the sun fully set and it's time for him to go home.

When Owen and you were a kid, you liked to play outside. Doing lots of things. Biking, hide and seek, things. When the sun starts to set, you will sit wherever, as long as you can watch the sunset. A familiar feeling and habit, with him. Four exhibits.

Without him realizing, he's falling in love. All of the things you did together. All the time you were together as kids. All the time you grew up together, going to the same school. He fell in love with the you that has been there all along while he chase for Shelly.

—

Knock knock.

Someone knocked on the door. What kinds of people come so fuckin late at night? You opened the door.

Owen is standing. His eyes bore to the hallways, as if he avoids your gaze. He clears his throat awkwardly.

"Promise you're not gonna be awkward with me?" is the first sentence out of his mouth. He avoids your gaze, looking somewhere else. He took a deep breath before starting the next sentence. "It's you. It has always been you," He stares deeply into your eyes. He felt nervous, but he, for sure, is sure about his feelings. Right now. Is he scared? Maybe yes. He is. But he never felt so certain in life.

"Huh?" You hum confusedly. Who the hell isn't when your best friend come to your doorway and saying weird shit at late nights.

"I.. like you. Like, a lot,"

Your gaze softens after you're realizing he's trying to confess. Fuck. So all these years were not in vain? All of these years you watched him falling for Shelly, but it turned out he fell for you? Really? God must be joking.

"Me too," You break the silence between the two of you. "I like you, too. Since a long time ago," your breath hitched.

Owen loves you. He always do.

You're the reason he kept a random rock in his bedroom because it looks like a heart (and you're the one who gave it). The reason he wears a particular color because you told him it emphasizes his eye color. The reason he listens to a particular indie band, because you told him their lyrics is poetic as hell. (He hates bands, but who cares).

You're the reason for so many little things in his life, that he didn't think about much, but makes his life worth living. You.

"C-can we.. kiss?" For the first time in your life, you see Owen stuttered. His cheeks and ears heat up, painting the pale skin with faint tint of pink.

You chuckled softly, "Sure."

His long, pale hands cradled your head softly. As if it was the most frail thing. Without any rush, without any urge, he pulls himself closer to you. He tilts his head to the side slightly, adjusting his position before putting his lips on yours.

He settles his lips on yours, slowly and softly sucking on your lower lips. Owen tastes like the americano he drank before biking. Bitter and slightly sweet from the candy he finished before knocking on your door. You, on the other hand, tastes like mint. Tastes like the toothpaste you used before opening the door. The cool and minty scent lingers in your mouth.

The kiss is not good. It isn't like how people potrayed them in movies or novels—but it's perfect and special. Because you shared them with Owen.

Both of you pulled back after few seconds, looking at each other in love and adoration while the moon shines through. You smiled softly, patting his shoulder. "It's late. Go home, okay?"

Owen nods. "Sure do," He gives a light peck in your right cheek. "I'll text you when I got home. Good night." Owen ruffles your hair softly, as he puts on his helmet.

Owen smiles to himself all the way home. He is sure and certain about his own feelings this time, and he's right.

[skele-bunny]

Never shared these here, but I'm thinking about Zephrit again and their first time together and just.... Them.

Ifrit having to learn to be so careful with Zephyr as one wrong move can dislocate or hurt them. Something Ifrit never had to deal with before

Zephyr who relies on Ifrit just to FUNCTION. This ghoul who can easily mangle them and burn them to their core. But he never does. He's gentle, keeping his fangs and claws back just to curl around them

Both loyal and vicious

Always at Zephyr's feet for anything they want or need, and also baring his fangs and hackles raised at anyone that even thinks to hurt them

Also their first time! It was just a lil make out session until Zephyr put their hand up Ifrit's shirt, touching each toned part of his body before Ifrit moved them to his lap, kissing down their neck and rubbing at their sides. How his own hands went up their shirt only for Zeph to pull away

"What's wrong? Are you okay?—"

"Shh, you worry too much."

Just watching as Zephyr hesitates for a moment before removing their nasal tubes, and slips their shirt off. Leans back in and kisses a bit more rougher, pulls back and pants more than normal so Ifrit helps slip their tubes back in. Just staring before giggling at each other

Their positions changed where Ifrit is between their legs, taking his own shirt off and rolling his eyes as Zephyr makes a tiddy comment.

Pulling Zeph's sweats and boxers down to admire their cock. It's not big or small, but honestly Ifrit loves it either way. Leans down to lick, hearing that pretty gasp from Zeph before fully taking them in his mouth

Making his birdy taste their own cum as they kiss again before being maneuvered where Ifrit is holding them upright after a while with his own cock out, having fingered Zeph and making his birdy sing.

Ifrit bouncing Zephyr on him, chasing after both of their orgasms before Zephyr suddenly sinks their claws in him.

"Iffy— stop—"

And he does immediately, looking up and panting, but now freaked out as Zephyr is really pale, inhaling sharply and trying to breathe through their nasal tubes. How Ifrit carefully pulls out and puts Zeph against the headboard while looking at their tank nearby, seeing it's fine and now just trying to calm them down and take slow breaths

Eventually they get color back, and able to breathe besides wheezing. Just went to fast, is all. After a few moments, Zephyr pleading for it to continue, Ifrit pulling them back on their lap. It's SO gentle and slow, just staring into each other's eyes before Ifrit knots them. GOD it's so tender and loving

From then on its nice and slow with only small amounts of being rough, and in the future mainly relying on kinks when they need that roughness or dominance. Their pet play being a giant one, as Ifrit adores that dominance, Zephyr enjoying being in control. They love that all they have to do is beckon Ifrit and tell him what to do, such an eager and good dog for him.

Just tapping his cane against the floor to really get Ifrit's attention, the sound much too familiar from all the times he's been bent over Zephyr's lap and spanked with that exact same cane. Always happy to get on his knees for them, getting a hand underneath his chin to caress and bring his attention up.

"Such a good dog for me, Ifrit. Will you bark for me, hm?"

And who is he to deny.

[blackdollette]

Hey, "high with Clyde" anon here (and high again, funnily enough). Smut you say? I've had a thought circulating in my mind recently. Going shopping for new clothes with Jack Thurlow and trying stuff on for him to rate while he sits all pretty on that couch they have there (y'know, that one that they have specifically for guys doing the exact same thing?) while you model for him. And for whatever reason - maybe his responses have been rather lacklustre and you want his....ahem, "enthusiasm", or maybe just cuz you're devious like that - you decide you wanna rile him up a little bit. So! At the next store, you grab like, the sluttiest outfits available unbeknownst to him, and then model them all for him, feeling all smug that he's practically drooling at you

And when he finally reaches his breaking point, the next thing you know, you got your feet behind your ears and his hand over your mouth so you don't get caught. 🤤 Idk, do with that what you might. ^^

you've done it again, anon 🙌🏽

"i get dressed to ride for you, baby." | jack thurlow

burning desire. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @angelsanarchy @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl@romanroyapoligist @oliviah-25@si1nful-symph0ny @auggiethecreator @vanlisbon@livingdead-reilly @imoonkiss @lankysimp @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35 @areuirish

female!reader x jack

word count: 1.8k

contents: public sex, unprotected p in v, missionary position, creampie

“you’ve got 5 minutes to try everything on, you hear me?” jack called out as he sat on the small leather couch outside of your dressing room, brows furrowed as he crossed his arms and slumped into the seat knowing full well you were going to take your precious time trying on every single outfit. so much for a "fun" shopping trip.

inside the small room, you had an assortment of clothes in front of you, ranging from long flowy gowns to dark blue baggy jeans and designer sweaters. a top-tier selection of clothes but none of which were to jack’s taste. but you decided to test your luck anyway.

minutes later, you stepped out and stood right in front of him, wearing your first dress. “how’s this one, jack?” his eyes were downcast, looking at something on his phone. you tapped him on the shoulder, only earning half of his attention. “hm? it looks nice, dolly.” you pouted, moving your hand to his chin to make him look at you. “but you didn’t even look at it.” he moved your hand away, looking you up and down with an unamused gaze. “i said it looks fine. now are you finally done so we can get out of here?” 

you rolled your eyes, walking back into the dressing room and slipping off the dress. you picked up a skintight black dress that was so long it dragged on the floor. surely this one would grab his attention, you thought to yourself as you paired it with a white, button-up sweater. you put on a pair of light-brown heels that were hidden by the fabric, stepping out once again and patting his cheek. 

“what about this? is this one better?” you gave him a little spin, giving him a full 360 degrees of your body in the tight dress. he gave a little smirk in response. “yeah if you wanna look like a nun, i guess. is this the last outfit? i don’t think i can listen to the music in here any longer.” you huffed, discouraged at how nonchalant he was. “yes, im done.” you muttered, walking back into the dressing room to get back into your normal clothes.

you walked out of the dressing room empty-handed, leaving everything behind since none seemed to give you the reaction you expected from him. he took your hand, dragging you out of the store and back into the main mall. “good riddance,” he muttered under his breath. “can we go home now, angel?” your eyes scanned the assortment of stores surrounding you until they landed on one that would surely sell clothes that would blow his socks off.

you shook your head. “not yet, i just wanna go to one more store. please, just one more place?” you begged, staring up at him as he groaned. “only one more. you head on inside, i’m going to grab a coffee. i’ll meet you in the dressing room.” with that, he released your hand and let you go your own way. 

you dashed into the store, immediately pleased by the outfits in the display window. you wasted no time picking up everything you saw, picturing the look on his face when he’d see the clothes on you. you walked into the dressing room, starting to change into one of the outfits as you heard his voice.

“you in here, doll?” he said as he sipped on his hot drink, waiting for a response. “i’m here, jack. just gimme a sec, okay?” he nodded, immediately realizing that you couldn’t see his answer. he sat down on the seat in front of your dressing room, sighing as he scrolled on his phone. “this damn girl…” he whispered to himself. then he was interrupted by the noise of you walking out, standing right in front of him.

you didn’t have to tap him to get his attention this time. his eyes were caught by the shiny black thigh-high leather boots you had on. then his eyes traveled up, first landing on your dangerously short pleated skirt and low-cut tube top that showed just enough cleavage to make his breath hitch (this is the outfit). you placed your hand on your hips, looking down at him as he swallowed hard, immediately putting his phone down and gripping the seat.

“now i’ve got your attention.” you remarked smugly. “you like this one, jack?” you took the words out of his mouth, his cheeks covered in a bright pink stain as his mouth gaped open. he cleared his throat, nodding nervously as a stupid little smile tugged at his lips. “y-yeah, this one’s nice, baby. give me a little spin, will ya?” your face lit up and you twirled, making the skirt lift up just a little as your heels clicked on the ground.

jack squirmed, shifting his position so he was sitting with his legs crossed, suppressing a painfully obvious boner. you grinned triumphantly, happy that you could break his cold, hard exterior. you walked back into the room, making that sad that you were going away but excited to see that next set of clothes you’d have on.

minutes passed and jack found himself impatiently tapping his foot as his mind ran wild with thoughts of you wearing such intimate clothes just for him. his hard cock was straining against the rough denim of his jeans, making him groan quietly as he placed a hand on top of his bulge to calm the throbbing sensation.

his foot began to bounce on the ground with anticipation, and soon enough he couldn’t take it anymore. he sprung up from his seat, pushing the curtain of your dressing room to the side and popping his head in. “are you done in here?” you jumped slightly, startled. but jack’s eyes became as wide as saucers as drool began to drip down his lips. 

you stood in front of the mirror, wearing a small tennis skirt with a plaid pattern on it, paired with a white silky shirt that was more revealing than your bra. and your cute little feet in those white knee-high socks didn’t help the matter either (the outfit). “jack! i’m not done in here yet!” 

he walked into the room, approaching you with a lust-filled haze as you backed into the wall behind you. he closed the curtain of the room, pinning you to the wall and pressing his body into yours, his boner pressing into your stomach. you gasped, the heat of blood starting to pool in your core as he grabbed your face and pulled you into a very sloppy kiss.

“goddamnit, woman… you just know exactly how to drive me crazy, don’t you?” he grabbed your ass, lifting you off the ground and making you wrap your legs around his waist, your clothed, throbbing clit now in contact with his pulsating bulge. you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you again, this time using his tongue to tease yours with his gentle flicks.

your hips began to grind on his, desperate for even the smallest amount of pleasure to still your nerves. jack groaned deeply, whipping out his cock and pumping it quickly. you glanced down, seeing that his girth had nearly doubled in size because of how swollen it had gotten. he rubbed his leaky tip on your silky panties, feeling your wetness through the thin fabric.

you let out a shaky moan, grabbing onto his muscled biceps as he set you down on the wooden bench that was meant for clothing. he pushed everything else off, leaving room for only you as he pushed your legs behind your head, the wet spot on your panties much more conspicuous in this position.

jack bit his lip as he grinned from ear to ear. “that’s my little model…” he trailed a teasing finger down your cleavage until he got all the way down to your dripping wet cunt. he replaced his finger with his cock, getting off from the feeling of your wet folds hungrily attempting to swallow him.

“guess we should get these out of the way, huh?” he slipped his cock underneath the thin string that covered your pussy, breaking it away with a light tug. your breath became shaky as the cold air hit your grooling cunt. jack spat on his thumb, rubbing messy circles onto your clit as he lined himself up with your hole.

the tip slipped in effortlessly, along with the first few inches. you moaned quietly, making jack clamp his hand over your mouth. “it would be a shame if we got caught in here, wouldn’t it?” with a low groan, he pushed in the remaining inches of his rod, making your eyes well. with his jeans down to his ankles, his hips began slapping into yours.

your eyes rolled to your back on your head as the perfect curve of his dick made him reach nothing but your cervix. you felt your drool bubbling all over his hand as deep, heavy breaths escaped from his parted lips. his large cock abused and stretched out your tiny hole, much to his pleasure.

his fingernails dug into the back of your thighs as his balls slapped your asshole with every deep thrust. your hands found his wrist and forearm, gripping the skin tightly as a white-hot knot began to tie in your stomach. jack’s orderly thrusts quickly lost their composure as your muffled moans made his core boil.

strings on precum connected him to you each time he pulled out. he flipped his hair out of his face, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed back curses that threatened to break free. “s-shit… that’s it, baby… takin’ my cock so well…” 

your back arched as you ground your hips against his, desperately chasing the orgasm that was just in your reach. your gushy folds hungrily ate up his cock, making him toss his head back. “use my dick, angel…just like that.” you brought your fingers to your clit, sobbing into his hand as you felt yourself cumming all over him. he grabbed your hips, fucking you at lightning speed as his balls sagged with cum. in a matter of seconds, he was filling up your tight, swollen pussy with loads upon loads of his hot seed.

he pulled out of you, watching as his cum cascaded out of your hole like a milky waterfall. you panted breathlessly, slowly regaining your composure as jack tucked his cock back into his pants before getting you all cleaned up as well.

you put on your clothes, looking at the mess you two had just made in a public residence. but before you knew it, jack was out of the dressing room, carrying all of the clothes you tried on. you walked behind him quickly. “where are you going?” jack smiled back at you. “to the cashier. i look forward to my little model putting on a show for me every night.” he dumped the pile of clothes onto the counter, the cum-stained skirt above everything else like a cherry on top.

author's note: thank you "high" anon for the request! istg I rlly didn't mean for it to get so long

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Skyrim - Tail Wagging

Requested: Yes [Would you consider doing a Farkas and Vilkas(separate) as werewolves that are just huge puppies for you when turned? Wagging tails and snuggles and maybe.. even using that tongue for something?]

Warnings: Werewolf oral sex, slight breeding kink in Farkas’ but reader is kept GN

Farkas

Farkas is definitely the more puppy-like of the two, but only when it comes to you. He’s always on you when he’s shifted, warm as he curls up around you, keeping you close. His tail wagging so fast that you can barely see it, just a blur. And his ears!!! They’re so sensitive, even the slightest touch or rub making him whimper, cock hardening against you, smearing precum all over your naked body. Which is just fine by him, makes you smell of him and keeps the others away.

And oh that tongue. He’s a messy eater, licking everything with that big tongue of his, just so eager to be tasting you, his drool soaking you more than your own slick, drenching your thighs and belly even. He wants to make you feel good but he just gets so lost, like he’s starved or something. He’ll never get enough of it, of your taste. But he’s such a pitiful boy too, he wants you so bad, especially when you’re in such a perfect position, on all fours for him. His cock is so hard, knot already half hard, precum dripping the aching skin, ending at the furry sheath. He’s desperate to breed you full, make your belly bulge from how much cum he’ll give you.

Vilkas

Vilkas is distinctly less puppy-like than Farkas but that doesn’t mean that there’s absolutely none of that same behavior in him. His tail is the dead give away to his other normal behavior, wagging almost as fast as Farkas’ when you rub and kiss his belly, one of your hands on his inner thigh. He thinks it’s a little funny how you try to pretend you don’t notice the head of his cock poking out of its sheath, especially when he bucks his hips excitedly at a particularly low pet, growling deep in his throat at your pretty whimper.

And hmmm, that tongue of his. He’s the exact opposite of Farkas in this regard as well. Slow and methodical, perfectly precise as he licks you up. Like he’s savoring you, like it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to do this. He’s more interested in drawing out ever noise he can from your mouth, music to his ears, really getting him going in a way nothing else can as he humps the bed so hard that you can feel it shaking.

[compressedrage]

*barges in* Your Hollow Head Siblings hc's, hand 'em over!!!! 🔫

(But fr, gotta love your thoughs, they're neat and scratch my brain juuuust right!!!)

YOU HAVE OPENED THE FLOOD GATES MY ANONYMOUS FRIEND

Keep in mind I am very tired rn so this will likely be very unpolished okay here we go–

The order of age goes Victim Chosen Dark Orange, we all know this, but I think for a long time Dark thought he and Chosen were a lot closer in age than they actually were. Chosen had to warm up to telling Dark about all the horrible things he went through, and that included the fact that he was alone for four years. (it's four years right? it might be five. I can't be bothered to look it up rn, its fine)

In between the Showdown and Wanted Orange is starting to think of Chosen as an older brother. He connected the dots to figure out that Chosen was also made by Alan and he saved them! He's so cool! This idea was only a little bit shattered when this older brother figure barged into the PC and kidnapped him and promptly got them both captured. But honestly what are older siblings for.

In canon Chosen does not let himself feel emotions enough for him to see Orange as a little brother, but the connection is there. He'll come around :)

SPEAKING OF CONNECTIONS– I recently had this idea that the Hollowheads had some sort of empathy-telepathy with each other. For example, one normal day out in the Outernet Chosen feels the exact moment Orange was created. He doesn't know what that feeling meant, and he never felt it again. Orange felt drawn to this new stick figure who saved their lives, and immediately follows him through the portal. Chosen felt something snap in his chest the moment Dark died. Orange and Victim lock eyes for a moment in the Box and feel something click. None of them talk about it, but it's there.

(that last one might qualify as an AU, who knows maybe I'll do something with it)

This one is more of a wish than a headcanon– Chosen takes Orange under his wing at some point, teaching him how to use his powers as best he can. However, since Orange's powers are rather different from Chosen's, it just results in a chaotic sparring session and setting a field on fire. The CG are not amused by the amount of bruises Orange gets, but Orange is having an absolute blast.

Orange is Chosen's "Second Coming"– surely that comes with consequences. I saw a hc where they shared portions of code and I liked that; something like Orange and Chosen have similar tastes in foods. Their eyes shine the same way when they smile. Sometimes they accidentally speak in unison because they each had the exact same thought. When stuff gets serious, they both narrow their eyes and make an expression that promises pain on their enemies.

Dark would be the best big brother and let me tell you why. Orange is often left with the Braincell of the CG. Have you seen how stressed this boy gets. He gets premonitions of his friends getting hurt. Dark allows him to mess around a bit more, in a "We might get in trouble, isn't that fun!!" kind of way. Orange has always had a chaotic streak, it just takes certain circumstances for him to tap into it. They would be able to get Red back for his pranking.

Orange would teach Chosen and Dark all about modern video games. They know video games, sure, they destroyed Angry Birds. But I think playing Minecraft would solve both of their problems. At least a lot of them.

I don't have many headcanons for Victim, I just haven't seen enough of him to get a solid enough foundation to make headcanons, but as an oldest child I can relate to him on a spiritual level. He may be gray now but with those three as younger siblings he's gonna get a whole lot grayer.

Gosh I love them so much, a house with all four Hollowheads would be the most chaotic house ever. Victim– the eldest with an actual job, no nonsense, the less-than-respected Holder of the Braincell. Since he is out of the house a lot because of Job, the responsibility falls to Chosen– older middle child, delinquent, failure of a cook and the only one Dark will listen to. Speaking of Dark– younger middle child, Chaos Incarnate, fellow delinquent and Escape Artist Extraordinaire, he is a terrible influence on the youngest– Orange. Orange is the black sheep of the family in that he is actually rather emotionally stable. He's in school, has friends, hobbies– his brothers just a bit jealous but supportive anyway. He also helps Dark prank the others; he's got great aim with water balloon catapults.

I cannot impress upon you enough how much they love each other. Their lives have been filled with isolation, suffering, rejection– but now they've found family in likewise people. None of them are alone anymore. Sure, Orange wasn't really alone to begin with, but surely he noticed how different he was from RYGB. He's not replacing them, not for a million dollars, but it is nice to have brothers who are similar to you.

[columbiastapshoes]

ATTENTION MAGENTA/COLUMBIA SHIPPERS: dinner is served 🤭 and this time it’s not meatloaf [ba dum chh]

that was a lot funnier in my head

ANYWAYS. here are some of my headcanons for the two of them and a collection of images i’ve found over the past 2ish years ive been hyperfixated on this movie!! i may have posted some of these hcs before but i. honestly don’t remember what ive said so forgive me if i repeat stuff! and disclaimers for the images: they’re from the rocky horror picture show and the rocky horror show, the one where they are Almost kissing is? a columbia cosplayer? with patricia quinn? lmk if im wrong about that one but im pretty sure that’s not nell campbell. ok with that in mind here ya go!!

-“HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII” “hello”

-magenta makes columbia like. ten hour mixtapes and columbias like 😀 and then listens to all of it in one day and refuses to pause it

-they have very different music tastes but they both appreciate the stuff the other listens to, but their tastes come together with the b-52s and abba :3

-magenta is a huge horror fan and columbia is Not but she watches scary movies with magenta anyways and is constantly holding a blanket up to her eyes or is burying her face in magentas shoulder

-this involves frank but he has been their wingman since day one. like their mutual pining was obvious to everyone except the two of them and frank kept trying to be like “she’s in love with you idiot” but he was always met with a “no we’re just friends” or “you’re making it more than it is she’s not in love with me”. when they Finally got together he was happy about it for like 3 seconds and then immediately resorted to the “i hate gay people” card and every time they kiss in the same room as him he’s like “GET A ROOOOOM” and gags

-magenta is. really strong. and even though she’s shorter than columbia she can pick her up no problem (columbia tried picking magenta up one time and she did do it but she lost balance and they fell over) (they were fine)

-magenta did not realize how much she loved physical affection until columbia (incredibly clingy) came around RAAAAH I HATE THEM /POS

-this is gonna start off as a rocky headcanon but i will get to them i promise. rocky has basically evolved into philomena cunk and asks the most wild out of pocket questions at the dinner table. magenta and columbia have noticed this and before dinner they always bet on what he’s gonna ask about and at dinner when he asks something whoever’s right kicks the other one under the table (affectionately)

-magenta is a love letters girly i know im right. but since they live in the same house she just slips the letters under columbias door and runs away because she’s a cutie patootie !!! columbia always reads them and writes back and does the exact same method and they’re just like. writing notes to each other. and both of them have incredibly messy handwriting that no one except them can read ☹️☹️ so when frank tried to look over magentas shoulder when she was writing she was like “DONT READ THAT” and he was like “…i couldn’t if i tried”

might add to this more later but that’s what i have for now :3 i am so normal about them i promise. enjoy that semi-coherent rambling and the images!! happy new year everyone :D

[spacelazarwolf]

So obviously I don't expect you to speak for all Jewish people, but I don't know any in real life and was hoping for an opinion.

Is it in poor taste for goyim to borrow Yiddish terms in everyday conversation? Terms like mensch, schmuck, and schlep are so evocative and pleasant to use, but I always feel like I'm appropriating Jewish culture when I use them. On one hand I feel it's not my right to use them as an outsider, but on the other I feel that broader use creates more exposure and "normalizes" Jewish culture. Your post about people thinking that Jewish people literally have horns got me thinking about how ignorant people can be about cultures they haven't studied and how maybe a little extra exposure might do some good in the world.

Curious to hear what you think!

Thank you for consistently creating quality content and speaking out regarding the ongoing genocide in Palestine.

imo it depends on the context, and it's kind of part of a larger conversation. i don't think it's inherently appropriation for non jews to use yiddish words, many have become part of the general american lexicon (not sure abt other english speaking countries or other countries in general) to the point where a lot of people have no idea that some of the words they use are yiddish. especially in places like new york where there is a large jewish population, it's not a surprise that people who interact with jews on a regular basis have picked up some of the language, and honestly it's pretty cool.

that being said, i think the appropriation part comes in when people insist on separating those words from their yiddish origins, especially if their intent is distancing themselves from jews. they don't want to admit that they have picked up something that comes from jewish culture because they see it as a negative thing, so they insist it's become "de-judenized" in a sense. obviously it's not the exact same dynamic, but people do something similar when they call words that originated in the black community like "fam", "lit", "slay", "woke", etc "gen z slang" or "internet slang."

basically, if you spend a lot of time around a group of people, you're likely going to pick up some of the language they use. as long as you're aware of that and aren't weird about it, you're fine.

[theknightmarket]

Act 1 | Scene 5 - Pick Your Poison

The last week had been weird.

Since meeting Illinois, the bar had been strangely active. That wasn’t to say it had never been busy before – in fact, it was picking up the kind of reputation that you wanted. Some classy establishment that you could go to for a calm and pleasant drink, where the music was slow and the service was quick. Except now, you were thinking it was working a little too well. 

There seemed to be the same crowd, day in and day out. You liked having regulars, but this was excessive. Unless you were going crazy. Maybe you were simply losing it. The pressure had gotten to you, and you were stuck hallucinating the same people over and over again, saying the same things and ordering the same drinks and arriving and leaving at the same time, and…

And taking a deep breath sounded like a good plan. So, gently, you inhaled, exhaled, and listened to the Vera Lynn record that played from the jukebox.

‘We’ll meet again’.

This job was stressful when everything rested solely on your shoulders, but you didn’t know how much it would help to get more hands on deck. Was it selfish that you wanted to keep the Astral to yourself? It was your prized, well, everything. The thought of someone else being behind the bar left a sour taste in your mouth.

However, the most likely reason as to your bout of delirium was the stress. You just had to remind yourself that everything was completely normal, and there was nothing at all to worry about. That mantra got you through the Friday night, when there should have been an influx of people, but that was fine. Unexpected, but fine. Obviously, it was just an off day. Tomorrow would be busy; you knew that for sure.

So why did the little voice in the back of your mind whisper that it wouldn’t be?

You used shutting up shop as a way to ignore your doubts. You wiped down the tables that no longer had people at them, restocked the straws and the small container of umbrellas, and you managed to clean a good majority of the glasses that were left in the sink – but none of this helped you when you were doing the exact same things that you had been doing for the last week. The same splatters of vodka melding with the varnish, the same amount of missing stock, the same chip in the third highball that you had to throw away. It clattered in the trash can, which you swore you had emptied the night before.

‘Don’t know where’.

You could feel your breath quickening once more.

‘Don’t know when’.

You didn’t know what to do. Ideas were rushing through your mind, too quick to catch, too slow to ignore. What were you supposed to do? Was this really happening? How could it be happening? What were you supposed to do? Nobody told you what to do when everything was repeating, and there wasn’t a guidebook or etiquette or emergency protocol. Vision blurring, you felt like you were going to keel over. Deep breaths. You tried to remind yourself of that mantra again, but it was no use. You were stuck. Panicking. Flailing. Drowning.

And then it all cleared when the door burst open.

Good, that was what you needed. A distraction. Doing your job seemed as good as any.

You snapped to your senses, like a soldier called to attention, from that eye-catching entrance of a new figure. The sight of your face appeared in the counter’s reflection, but it looked no different that it normally did. Although you knew on the inside that you had been on the brink of falling off a cliff, your exterior showed no such worries. Just a normal bartender in a normal bar.

‘But I know we’ll meet again’. 

Before you could round the counter, however, a thought occurred to you; it was nearing 2 o’clock, the time you would usually kick everyone out. The sleepers, the drunks, and, once or twice, Wilford. Letting another patron in now would mean half an hour, probably more, before you could get them out again. You wouldn’t be paying anyone an overtime wage, but the weight of your mini freakout wasn’t getting any lighter on your shoulders. If the person had a group with them, you would have been more inclined to let them stay, but it wasn’t as though they were bound to order a lot of drinks, chug them, and then bounce. All of the evidence pointed to kicking them, and the two other people in a corner booth, out. Plain and simple.

But – and you thought this with the kindest sentiment you could muster – they looked an utter wreck, and you didn’t trust yourself not to immediately call them back inside if you did give them the boot.

That left the logical part of your brain glaring daggers into the emotional side as you went to take their order at their booth.

“Good morning, sir.”

‘Some sunny day’.

Although, it seemed your internal battle was unnecessary. He’d buried his head in his arms, leaned against the table and dead to the world around him, and he stayed that way while you spoke. Considering the manner in which he had arrived, specifically shoving your door open so violently that you wondered if there were splinters, the thought that he was genuinely dead did cross your mind.

You decided to shake his shoulder.

“What’s the problem!?”

You immediately retracted your hand and stepped back, breath catching in your throat. You weren’t expecting such a volatile reaction. His eyes were just as wide as yours, but you were stuck staring at him while his pupils shot across the whites like they were being chased by the red edges. He looked worse up close. Before, you had thought he was just some poor night shift worker who had been running off fumes for the last day. Now that you were eye to eye, though? You didn’t think he even had fumes, just a few weak puffs of smoke out of a dying furnace.

You put on a brave face to say, “You need to order something, or you’ll have to leave. We stop serving in ten minutes.”

It was then that he realized himself. There was a sudden sense of self sparking where there had been a manic derangement. He looked to the left, then to the right, and then settled back in his chair.

‘Keep smiling through’.

“I’m so- I’m sorry, I’ve been… ugh, it’s been a hard day.” Had you not been wary of getting your hand snapped off, you would have patted him on the back; the calm he developed was quickly exchanged for a disconcerting laugh. “Can you call it a day if it feels like it’s been a week? If- if it doesn’t just feel like it, it actually has been?”

This was a mistake. In your own insanity, you had accidentally welcomed another insane person into your bar. You should have just taken the easy out and went to sleep, but the one time you tried to be generous, it backfired on you.

He was still talking, but it had progressed into mutterings that were directed at no one in particular. “You know, it’s hard to keep track of stuff like that,” he addressed the varnish of the table, “because the clocks go back, too, so has it been a day, or has it been less or- or more?”

You were about to step away when his gaze shot back to yours, but that wasn’t the worst part – it was the grin stretched from ear to ear. It wavered as he spoke, a string pulled tight enough for the smallest strands to start separating, threatening to snap, pulling and pulling. “When do you think it’ll reset, huh?”

‘Just like you always do’.

“I’m not sure I follow,” you responded. The shake was out of your voice but the wariness was not.

“No, no, you wouldn’t.” He waved a hand through the air, mimicking a casual chat about the weather. “But if you had to guess.”

Okay, now was the time to think. This man, who seemed to be on the brink of madness or had already fallen off, was asking you when time would reset. That was easy to accept because he was sitting in front of you, his words fresh in your mind. The harder part came with accepting that you knew what to answer with. All the repeating patrons, drinks, that damn Vera Lynn music playing in the background. You could have told him that you didn’t know what he was talking about, but you would have been lying. At this point, was there a reason to not give him the truth?

“Well, sir,” you started after clearing your throat, “it’s been fairly the same in recent days. I’d only be aware of it if it happened after twelve hours or so.”

He didn’t react how you imagined he would. He didn’t startle or flourish or show a hint of interest. Instead, he chuckled. A scoff, as if he were entertaining a child’s imagination.

“Oh, yeah, what’s the same then?”

“The orders, the arguments—” You waved a hand in the air, “—this song has been playing non-stop today.”

‘’Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds’.

The collective voice of the soldiers cut through like an axe striking a board. It similarly cut through his expression of manic nonchalance and gave way to a very specific expression. Hesitance, amusement, hope. He wanted to believe you, but something was holding him back.

“You noticed that?” he asked, his tone of voice soft and his eyes holding a sense of the present that he lacked before.

“Should I not have?”

“No, no, I just—” He cut himself off with a crash as he slammed his fist into the table, “—wait, no! No, you shouldn’t have. Why do you remember?” That fist started to clench. “Who are you?” And he lost the awareness again. “Do you remember anything more dangerous, in the realm of life-threatening?”

This was getting ridiculous. You felt the hairs raise on your skin and a chill drip down your spin, but you tried your hardest to ignore them. You pushed the dread to the side in favor of saving face.

“Not particularly, no,” you answered. It didn’t seem to help him, though; he was glaring around the bar, as if he were looking for some kind of spy, but your assurance that there was none was sure to do him no good. A simpler offer, then. 

“Do you want a glass of water?”

“No, I need to figure this out.”

You were unceremoniously yanked into the seat next to them, and your heartrate immediately sped up to unsafe levels. Your clothes under his hands scrunched together so much that the rest was completely flat up to where he had his grip fixed into a deadbolt. He seemed to pay no mind to the position he had put you in, but the other couple still in the corner of the bar spared you a curious look before returning to their conversation. Helpful.

“When you say that the orders and arguments have been the same, what exactly do you mean?”

‘Far away’.

Gently, you pulled his wrists back into his own lap. You were going to have no one grabbing you without asking – even if they were obviously going through the wringer – and that gently was the most leeway you were willing to give him.

He stayed completely silent as you removed his hands, but his eyebrows furrowed and a noise of confusion came from deep in his throat. He must not have noticed.

“They’re not perfectly the same,” you admitted, “but each of the patrons have been appearing here at the same time for the last three days. They get the same base drink with a small change. Lemon or lime, with or without ice, dirty or neat, whatever it is, it’s only slightly different. Then they drink, have the same topic of conversation and then leave at the same time.”

“While Vera Lynn plays in the background?”

“That’s only started this morning, except it’s one of the only jazz records I own.”

So far, you had seen a range of expressions from this stranger. In the last ten minutes, he had sported fatigue, amusement, desperation, and a constant wash of mild insanity. The only thing that had gotten you truly worried for your safety was being pulled close to him. Now? You were paralyzed by an emotion that glinted in his eyes.

Absolute enthusiasm.

‘So will you, please, say hello’.

His growing smile gave it away further, if his words didn’t. “And you remember all of this?”

“Would I be telling you if I didn’t?”

“This is great!” He punched into the air comically. “Well, not great for you, the whole looping thing, it could end horribly. But it’s great that you remember.”

While you were happy for his little revelation, you remembered something else. You still had those other two people to take care of, and it seemed from their glances towards the bar that they were getting ready to pay and leave.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve realized what’s going on, but I need to—”

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry, I just need you for a little longer.” To his credit, he kept his hands right where they were, despite him leaning forward like he was going to grab you again. As a thanks, you nodded for him to continue, though you kept one eye on the other patrons. 

His smile lessened in extremity, but it was still genuine. “I mean, I don’t understand,” he continued, “why here, why you? It is looping so you’re not unaffected, but you remember.”

You yourself were stuck on that, too. You weren’t anything special, no matter how many people had tried to butter you up by saying that you were. Maybe it was just luck? A right-place, right-time deal, wherein you had nothing to do with the chance that you remembered. It was very much in the cards that it was a fluke.

But then you thought about the last few weeks as a whole. That was all random, just the same as this thing was. Meeting Illinois, Yancy, Dark, and… well, you supposed that, really, Wilford was the only one to actually be random. His choosing of your bar was a stroke of luck that led to the others finding you. And, to put it simply, Wilford was weird. Not shy, awkward kid in the back of the class weird – genuine weird. He talked about the laws of space and time like they were nothing but suggestions, he acted like he was straight out of the 1980s, and, half the time, he was sitting at the bar before you had heard the door open.

‘To the folks that I know?’.

You took in a deep breath and then tentatively asked, “This doesn’t have anything to do with Wilford, does it?”

Your suspicions were confirmed when he responded with a, “Wilford?” that showed both confusion and familiarity. 

You held back a groan as he twisted his head like an owl to look around the bar. This time, he wasn’t trying to sparce the face of a secret detective from the wallpaper, he was actually looking.

“The Astral?” he asked when he turned back to you.

‘Tell them I won’t be long’.

At this point, you had half a mind to put out a neon sign in the middle of the room, add some arrows pointing at it and a little trail of petals so that people would actually realize where they were – and what did that say of their survival instincts? Apparently, it was a trait of those who all looked like the same guy to not know where they’re walking. You were certain that some of them had died since you had last seen them. Most likely Illinois.

Instead of indulging in that depressing thought, you sighed, “Do none of you read signs before you walk through a door?”

“In my defense, I was really out of it – but that does explain it.”

“How so?”

He pursed his lips and started tapping at the table. “Wilford’s always been—” He made an odd hand gesture, “—…odd. He isn’t affected by the loops. Dark isn’t either, you’ve met him, right?”

“Yancy and Illinois, too.”

‘They’re much better.” Nodding to himself, he sat back into the leather of the booth. Now that he had apparently solved the dilemma he was going through, he was much more relaxed. Not more energized – of course not, he looked like he’d been dragged through hell backwards – but he wasn’t on the edge of plummeting into complete madness, and you took that as a win.

After looking him over, you replied, “You’re not so bad yourself, even if you’re a bit stressed.”

‘They’ll be happy to know’.

And there came a more normal smile. More appealing, you thought, than the ones from before. Less unnerving, too. This suited your first assumption, the one of him being an overtired night-shift worker.

With a huff, he wiped his eyes and then extended one of his hands towards you. The minimal gap between you made it difficult, but leaning back let you shake it.

“I’m the Engineer,” he introduced himself, with a sense of formality you would have never expected, “people have been calling me Engie – you’re free to, as well, if you want.”

Weird name, but at this point, was it anything out of the ordinary? 

‘That as you saw me go’.

You shook his hand once, twice, and then let go. It was practiced to the point of a formula, but you had no problem following the pattern. You’d done it so many times before, regardless of who initiated it. This was the first time it was done sitting down in a bar that you owned, though, so you gave it a little more weight.

When Engie let go, he chuckled quietly. “I might take you up on that water.”

You nodded in return and were finally able to slide out from the booth. You spent such little time sitting down normally that your legs felt stiff when you stood up. Stretching would have been unprofessional, especially as the other couple’s faces lit up at the sight of you. You answered their wave with another nod and quickly went to fetch their bill first.

A couple minutes passed, during which they paid, left a tip, and left.

And then there were two.

Technically, you should have closed half an hour ago, but a water still cost money and you didn’t particularly want to force Engie out on the street. You still believed him – well, two-thirds of you did. The other part thought he was insane, and you were insane and this whole situation was insane, but you returned to your patron with the glass of water.

‘I was singing this song’.

“Thank you,” he said, handing you a dollar note. You didn’t remember if he stepped on the plank, but you weren’t going to risk asking if he did. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s my job.”

You were about to twist on your heel and get back behind the bar to finish clearing up, but you were stopped by his voice, tone growing embarrassed. He looked just as red as he sounded.

“I wasn’t talking about the drink, I mean… most people would have kicked me out already. I- just, thank you.”

The flustered smile was charming, you’d give him that, but a thought occurred to you before you could comment on it.

“Do you want to do me a favor? Just so we’re even.”

His eyes widened but he jumped on the opportunity all the same. “Of course, what do you need?”

Out of your dress shirt’s pocket, you retrieved a smoothened five-dollar bill and placed it on the table. Engie was understandably confused, so you explained, “Wilford keeps walking out before I can give it to him. If he’s not going to step on the plank, he’s not going to pay extra.”

With the hesitance of a man who did not know what the plank was, he took it and replied, “I’ll pass it along to him.”

“Thank you.” But now that the deal was done, you had something else to address. “Are you feeling better?”

He laughed to himself again and the blush didn’t recede. If anything, it got stronger the more he thought about his arrival. “Yeah, I guess I made a fool of myself there, huh?”

Both of you knew you were lying as you said, “Not at all.” Still, you added on, “You’re better than a lot of people I’ve had in here.” That part wasn’t as untrue as the former, if only because the faint outline of that bruise on your jaw still greeted you every morning in the mirror. Whatever ‘looping’ situation this had been hadn’t done it any good.

That reminded you of the time. Hopefully you would actually wake up the next day after the night you’d had. 

“But it is getting late,” you prompted. Telling someone to bluntly get out wasn’t good for business, and Engie was nice.

Luckily, he got the hint. “Oh- oh, yeah, I get it. I’ll just…” He pushed away from the leather and stumbled out of the booth. “Thanks for the water, and I’ll see you later?”

It was awkward watching him try to recover from his fumbling, so you filled the silence with, “Don’t get hit by a car on your way out, or anything else in the realm of life-threatening.”

You were treated to a final, louder laugh as he walked towards the front door. You followed to lock the door when he was out, but he turned around to call, “See ya!” before he let it fall shut behind him.

‘We’ll meet again’. 

You were left alone in the Astral, at 3:17 in the morning, having met another of that strange group who all had different aesthetics but looked completely the same. 

‘Don’t know where, don’t know when’.

It was annoying not knowing what was going on. 

‘But I know we’ll meet again’.

It wasn’t scary, wasn’t concerning, you were just plain aggravated because you were getting closer and closer to this, regardless of whether you wanted to. However, you knew one thing for certain; if you were going to get wrapped up in all of this, then you were going to get some answers.

‘Some sunny day’.

And you knew just where to get them from.

AO3 Link - List

[mandy4ever69420]

which one of lip’s relationships is your favorite?

like.. romantically? i mean i like most of lip's love interests he kind of has fantastic taste in women and keeps fumbling so horribly.

probably karen. as a romantic narrative and overall for impact. i really enjoy how they both wanted the same things but expressed those at the exact worst fucking times and it blew up in their faces. eg: karen tries to ask "what are we?" when lip's in the "we are just buddies who screw" phase of his fucking problems and accidentally pushes her away, and then he drops the "i love you" when she's not in a place to hear it that fucks everything up a second time.

i like how the weird intense and specific way that karen unintentionally broke his heart pretty directly reflects in the things he does wrong and ways he can't commit in later relationships. especially with mandy. which i've discussed in some tag rants maybe i should convert into a text post or something. and i like that it was never going to work and it's not really either of their faults and it's also both of their faults. YEOWCH . and that he pretty much never calls anyone else his best friend again

but i mean -> flipside i really like how that resolves into how his relationship to tami works because she is someone who just will not take shit from him and. i don't happen to personally believe that theyre in love with each other i think it's nice that they ARE just close friends who are committed by accident. sort of the opposite of how he and karen really were in love with each other but could not for the life of them commit

i will say i have a quiet personal bias towards amanda just because i think she's so fucking charming and weird. i loved her gambit to get lip cash and that it's a pattern. i thnk some people were put off by her for reasons relating to class and the way she boytoy'd him more aggressively than anything i've ever seen but i thought it was extremely fun. (people being put off by her might also just have to do with preferring mandy. which is fine. but for me doesn't detract from the charm of amanda) but also because i take her side so fucking aggressively when he fumbles her because it is IN PUBLIC and she TRIED. to like, communicate and be on his level and she tried to make things clearer before. like. if she shot him point blank i would betray my lifelong principles and no snitching policy so she wouldnt have to be alone in prison. I mean what. (also my immense sympathies to her for being adopted by a white family. i've read about how badly that can go)

i mean also i liked that scene were lip gets briefly overcome at amanda's terrifying weird sorority thing bc she's pretty and nice and she likes him and there's candles and atmosphere and then he's moved by the kiss until all the other sorority girls start celebrating and he realizes (incorrectly) it was just to show off ("i want those other girls suicidal with envy"). amanda being a normal amount of guarded about her feelings pre-sabotaged her later for when she tries to actually clarify because lip already felt a little spark of hope and then snuffed it before.

but non romantically probably i like professor youens best. off the top of my head. weirdly enough his relationships to other family members (except frank) kind of never move me as much as any other specific 1-on-1.

but um. i really liked how intensely he latched onto youens as someone who could really understand his isolation and tendency towards self destruction and i really liked that when youens DUI'd and fucked up someone's house and traumatized that woman it was so sympathetic to youens. because DUI is one of the most fucking INFURIATING crimes to me. personal pet peeve it just makes me so mad. so i like being put into a situation where i'm forced unexpectedly to sympathize really hard with someone who does it. not because any of the harm caused was less important, but because you have his very human perspective through the eyes of someone who is like desperately attached to him.

and after youens died i loved the horrible melancholia of lip being at his funeral and hearing how careful and decent he was to all these other students. because lip was sort of realizing that he wasn't necessarily a special case to youens. and it's a sort of immature heartbreak on his part, because not being the only person he cared about doesn't mean he didn't care, and it doesn't even mean you didn't have a real special understanding with this guy supporting you. it just feels lonely in a real little kid way. like he got so attached. and then he's on the outside again, because youens' family is in charge of his affairs and stuff.

&& when youens' daughter says she's glad her dad was such a good dad to lip! both because this hammers home how he can't help but feel left out of the life of someone he trusted and looked up to & because of the misplaced guilt he feels. like, she was guilting him on purpose, but it's not his fault. it probably also brought to mind how lip felt when frank went to karen's parent teacher meeting and not his. so after years he's suddenly back on the opposite side of that. man. sorry these are all so fucking sad it's just something lip is good at.

[panqueen]

The Other Mayfield

Part 3: Shitty Parents

Steve Harrington x Fem Mayfield Reader x Eddie Munson

Warning contains themes of: Substance use, Strong language, Neglect, Mention of death/injury.

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Y/n’s Pov:

I drive back to the trailer after dropping Max off at school and talking to the Party. To get rid of the silence I turn the music up louder tapping the steering wheel and bobbing my head to the slightly static music. When I drive up to the trailer I see a Red pickup truck that has a broken back window and a side mirror hanging on by a thread.

Great it's Nick my mom's shitty new boyfriend.

I sigh turning off the car and getting out walking up to the front door. I would usually just drive away when he's around but I need my work uniform since I start in about 30 minutes.

I twist the front door knob taking a deep breath and open it walking in. There in the living room is my Mom sitting on the couch with bottles of liquor on the coffee table and Nick sitting on the beaten up lazy boy drinking a beer.

"Mom it's 9am" I tells her sighing.

My Mom goes to respond but Nick raises his hand to stop her from talking and I roll my eyes at how shitty he is, yeah married to an abusive asshole and on to the next.

"Listen sweetheart your Mom can do whatever the fuck she wants" he grits out scoffing and taking another drink.

"You sure about that?" I ask glaring at him looking at his still raised hand.

"Listen you little bitch I don't need to take this shit from you you're not my kid" he raises his voice.

"Yeah you're right but my Dad is just as much an asshole as you are" I glare back.

Before I can say anything else I feel a sting on my left cheek where he slapped me. Normally someone would be horrified that a grown man hit them but not me, Neil my mom's ex husband smacked me around a few times and my Dad was the exact same. As you can see my mom has terrible taste in men. Max's dad Sam died a year before our mom married Neil and my dad Bill was a real piece of work who left and got a whole new family leaving his old one behind but we're better off. If you ask me Sam was the nicest man my mom was ever with, the man was a saint compared to the assholes after him.

And instead of saying anything about her shitty boyfriend hitting her kid my mom just sits there like usual. When Neil was around and beat on Billy my mom did the same thing, I was the only person who stuck up for him even if it meant getting some of Neil's anger taken out on me.

I just walk past him going to my bedroom to grab my uniform which consisted of a blue vest with Family Video stitched onto it. After grabbing my vest I grab a joint and put it in my pocket. I close my bedroom door behind me and walk into the living room.

"I'll be at work and then I'm spending the night at Robin's and Max is staying at the Byers" I tell my mom.

Without waiting for an answer I walk past them and out of the door to my car. I start the car driving to Family Video while the stereo plays static music.

I walk into Family Video smiling when I hear Robin and Steve having an argument about their love life per usual.

"Let me guess Steve went on another unsuccessful date and you won't confess your undying love for Vickie" I smirk towards Robin walking closer to them.

"About right" Steve nods with a sigh.

"I'm not in love with Vickie she's just amazing" Robin sighs.

"Sounds like love to me" I shrug smirking at her.

"Ugh whatever" Robin rolls her eyes blushing looking away.

Robin walks to the back to grab more tapes and I continue to put tapes onto the shelves when I feel someone looking at me, I look up and see Steve watching me closely.

"What Stevie?" I ask looking at him confused.

"Are you okay?" he asks walking closer.

"I'm fine" I answer turning back to the shelves avoiding his unconvinced stare.

"Your cheek is red and it's starting to bruise" he says softly pointing at my face.

"Um...it was just Nick you know how he is" I respond shrugging.

"Need a place to stay tonight?" he asks with a small smile.

"Thanks Stevie but I'm fine" I smile at him before looking back at the shelves.

"Oh uh yeah no problem" he replies nodding and walking back to the front counter.

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Word Count: 784

Wattpad: Graywrites06_